


Beyond The Edge

by lonelywalker



Category: Space: Above and Beyond
Genre: Epistolary, Gen, Post Series, Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelywalker/pseuds/lonelywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Letters from the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Edge

1.

Colonel,

It's me. It's West. Nathan. Damn. I don't know how to write these things, but I do know half of it's going to be censored before it even leaves the ship. Coop was going to write but, well, you know him. He asked me to do it because I went to school, because I've written academic papers thicker than his arm. I'm supposed to be the smart one, the confident one, the fucking _inspired_ one, if we get down to that. But I don't know what to say any more than he does.

We're still on the _Saratoga_. If we're waiting, I don't know what we're waiting for. I keep expecting new orders - some brilliant new plan to take the fight to the Chigs and save Earth before it's too late. But nothing comes. I get the feeling that we're simply exhausted; worn out. I don't want to say "defeated", but it might be true. We're not getting much news anymore, but Coop and I are two of the only healthy able-bodied Marines around here, so we see most of it for ourselves. We're stretcher-bearers if we have to be. We're medics if we have to be. We check in with the Commodore at least once a day. He's okay, really. He's still going. You'd have thought he'd tell us to get lost - that he has enough to do without answering our questions - but he always seems happy to see us.

There's no news from the others: Shane, Vanessa, Paul... It's hard to think of them as marines MIA. They were - are - our friends. The bunks are horribly quiet after dark, now. We've thought about moving quarters, to be with other people. We've talked about it, and agreed it's a good idea. We just never do it. In some ways the silence is peaceful. In others it's a memory.

The first chance we get, I know we'll find them. We'll kill every Chig from here to Antares if we have to, but we'll find them. They're family, Colonel. None of them gets left behind.

Stay safe, sir. I'll write more when I know more.

 

2.

It's dark here. I have no idea where I am, or how I got here. I have no idea what I'm even writing. I have my pad and pencil, but I can't see a thing on the page in front of me. There's just no light at all.

I've paced the length of this cell - I'm guessing it's a cell, although it could be anything. Fifteen meters by ten. Solid walls, cold to the touch. Probably some kind of rock. I have to guess I'm underground. I have to guess the Chigs have me.

I've done this before. I can do it again. Don't worry about me, if you ever find this note and wonder what I told them. Ask Colonel McQueen. I won't tell them one damn thing, and I know they'll kill me before they give up trying.

I have a rock in my hand, and all the training I will ever need. I'm a Marine, after all. If I can take at least one of them with me, I will.

Semper fi, you bastards.

 

3.

This is First Lieutenant Vanessa Damphousse, 58th Squadron. I'm telling myself I'm writing this just to pass the time before we're picked up by the search-and-rescue teams. Part of me even thinks this is a good idea, just in case we're asleep or unconscious when they come, so they'll know who we are. Part of me remembers those letters from the doomed that Colonel McQueen used to quote - brave men and women about to die on the front lines for lost causes. Something in me tells me that this letter might join them.

The funny thing is I'm not sure whether we won or lost. Maybe Shane and I will be the last people to find out. I have no idea whether we saved the day, or if we're going to be two of the thousands who died trying. I imagine West and Hawkes and Wang out there, searching for us. I remember Christmas Day, when we were so lost we believed we'd never be found. But we got through on a little ingenuity and a whole lot of perseverance. I'm trying to remember that now.

There's no radio - no way of communicating with the outside world. We've thought of everything - went through ideas about Morse code, semaphore, smoke signals... but it's useless. We can't see or hear anything beyond a hundred meters, so no one searching above us would have a clue we were even here.

We'll run out of food and water soon. I hope it doesn't come to heroic arguments about whether one of us should starve to save the other. I don't feel much like being a hero, now, and I won't let Shane do it to save me. We're in this together. We always have been.

 

4.

To the 58th Squadron ("Wildcards"),

My apologies for not writing sooner. The medical personnel ostensibly taking care of me in this facility have deprived me of communication with other human beings for too long. As you are all aware, I have never felt much of a need to rest and recover when there are battles still needing to be fought.

Commodore Ross is currently refusing to tell me anything about the state of the war or, indeed, about the welfare of the 58th. I suspect he is worried about provoking me to break out of this center and hitch a ride back to the _Saratoga_. Believe me, if I had any idea that you all needed my help, I would do it.

I will be fitted with a prosthetic leg in a few days (or so they tell me, although I have little faith in their schedules), but even on crutches I would get there. A man only needs a brain and two hands to fly.

Sadly, a man only needs half a brain to tell that the war is not going our way. I remember little of the supposed peace conference, but enough to know that too many of our people died. Those who survived - barely - are here with me now, and most will not last out the week.

I know you must be concerned, worried, even scared. I am too. I can only hope that you are together, and well, and able to fight on. I have the greatest faith that we will all be together again, and soon. You are the most talented and dedicated group of young people I have ever had the pleasure of commanding. If any of you are in trouble, anywhere in the universe, you have my word that I will find you and bring you home.

There's nothing to fear in an honorable death for a good cause, but, given the option, I will always prefer an honorable life.

Stay focused, and stay together.

I believe in you all.


End file.
